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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984622">Three</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkimtired/pseuds/idkimtired'>idkimtired</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>counting princes [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Assassin AU, M/M, i love jeremy a little too much, just needed it out of my head :), very short</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:20:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkimtired/pseuds/idkimtired</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The prince, Jean, looks more like a young god than a prince. Jeremy doesn't know what to do now that they're face to face, caught by surprise at being spotted. Jean leans against the bathroom door frame, barefoot and bare chest, wearing only a simple pair of loose black trousers and a silver crown, crooked in wild black hair. Hands in pockets, chin tilted up, he looks so easily arrogant.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>counting princes [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The prince, Jean, looks more like a young god than a prince. Jeremy doesn't know what to do now that they're face to face, caught by surprise at being spotted. Jean leans against the bathroom door frame, barefoot and bare chest, wearing only a simple pair of loose black trousers and a silver crown, crooked in wild black hair. Hands in pockets, chin tilted up, he looks so easily arrogant. Comfortable and unafraid. It feels like fresh blood should run from his lips pulled into a lazy, arrogant smile or tears should mar perfect cheeks to complete the picture. A young god, charged with something wild and unpredictable, ready to tear the gold gods to pieces the second they moved out of line. In the moonlight he is made of living shadows, blacks, greys and whites and it's hard to breath looking at him. Cold eyes, impossible beauty and cruel scars, all that was missing was wings. The elegantly inked lines of the number three on his cheek forcefully remind Jeremy of his job. Number three. The third spare prince. An enemy, no matter how low down his rank in the royal family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A rebel?” The prince’s accent rolls softly. Fancy but foreign. A reminder of his origins elsewhere, lost when he was traded away in peace negotiations and adopted. In his study of the third prince over the past month, Jeremy hasn't found anything that hasn't been at least a little bit sad. He seems unconcerned now, watching Jeremy with utmost calm. Jeremy nods slowly, knife in hand, wondering if he’s about to hear useless offerings in return for the prince’s life, bargaining, pleading, promises. He steals himself against it, ready to refuse it all. He’s taken by surprise by what the prince actually says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to kill Riko too?” He seems to be trying to appear only curious but leans forward intently, light catching on his crooked crown and Jeremy raises his knife in warning. He gets no reaction to the threat, the prince still waiting expectantly for a response. Jeremy wonders if it's a trick, if he’s trying to delay, waste time, but doesn't see how it could work. There aren't any guards to come to the rescue and the prince is unarmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” The smile he gets is vicious but tired too, as if drained of some energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Jean slumps back against the door frame, a bored expression on his face as he eyes Jeremy’s knife. A silence stretches between them as the prince seems to wait for Jeremy to just stab him without even a tint of fear… but curiosity has always been Jeremy’s downfall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good?” Should he stop Renee from killing Riko? Was he a rebel sympathiser or -?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Jean taps one of his more prominent scars running down his chest, gleaming white in the night light. He shrugs when he catches Jeremy look, leaving the other boy confused. “Are you really going to take all night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… want me to kill you?” asks Jeremy stunned and unsure what the protocol for this is. Not that he hasn't already smashed protocol to bits by talking to his target. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do it anyway</span>
  </em>
  <span> most likely. The look he gets from the prince has his stomach dropping. Oh. He feels small all of a sudden, all of the certainty he was doing the right thing dropped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” It comes out quiet, soft, and he tries not to think of Wymark pulling him aside and saying he could always pull out, let someone else do it. He was too soft for this. The prince blinks at him in surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” he repeats slowly. It sounds better when he says it. “Why do you care? Doesn't it make your life easier?” Jeremy shrugs. The prince considers for a moment, head tilted up, gaze off in the distance, like a god considering whether he should deign reply to a mere mortal. “It's my way out. Freedom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Way out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are all rebels so nosy? I belong to the King. To Riko. Death is the only way out. I am… sick of life.” Jeremy’s brain is a mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about running away?” The other boy stares at him. He looks human for a second, mouth and eyes roundening in surprise, cheeks flushing pink. It makes him look younger, innocent. Shit. What is Jeremy trying to do? This was not the plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Running away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did try once,” admits Jean with a small frown. From the shadows crowding his eyes, it didn't go well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about trying again?” Shit. Shit. Shit. Jeremy cannot be doing this. He cannot. He is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can get you out.” Jeremy’s brain races ahead tangling and untangling something resembling a plan, his words stumbling out in a rush. “You could help us. In return for freedom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can't help anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can.” Jeremy gestures wildly around. “What have you got to lose? Your other option is getting stabbed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You,” says Jean slowly, “Want to help </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a prince, escape from the castle instead of the assassination you're supposed to be doing?” Jeremy doesn't really have anything to say to that, he knows it sounds crazy, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> crazy. He shrugs sheepishly instead, an involuntary smile forming that could be from panic or maybe at the mix of confusion and judgment on the other boys face. Jean stares at him, cheeks flushing, his mouth opening then closing into a frown. Was he offended by the suggestion? What was Jeremy doing? For a moment he thinks he sees a spark of hope hidden in grey eyes but it's stomped out before he can be sure. Jean pushes off the doorframe, walking past Jeremy into his bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn't matter,” he says hollowly, back to Jeremy, hands still in pockets, “I can't. I can't escape. Kill me or don't, i don't care but get out before you're caught.” Jeremy hesitates, torn, before stubbornness wins out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then consider it a kidnapping.” He can feel himself blushing bright red when Jean turns, an eyebrow raised. “Just - think about it. You get out of here - i get, well we get, a prince on our side. It could be a turning point.” Jeremy tries not to think too much about the details. Jean gives him a flat look that says he isn't being very convincing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go away.” He sounds like a sulking child, snapping it out before collapsing back onto his bed dramatically. Does he really expect Jean to leave? No. He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>invested</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come one.” He hopes his voice isn't as whiny as he thinks it sounds but the look on Jean’s face isn't very encouraging. “Hurry up, i have… five minutes. Max.” The prince looks like he can't believe Jeremy’s audacity. Jeremy tries to put more authority into his voice. “Listen. You have no choice. I'm taking you. Hurry up.” His words have an effect on the prince who gets up slowly, balancing on bare feet (thank god, Jeremy was dying, barely able to look at him sprawled out like that. Really, no one should have let him, of all people, go after such a pretty price. It was their fault he was doing this). He takes off his crown, holding it in both hands, considering. It's a small decorative thing, sharp and pointy. Pure silver. Jean tosses it out the window. Jeremy is too shocked to even react but Jean seems satisfied, going to grab a black shirt and pulling it on. He doesn't bother with shoes, striding out past Jeremy. He stops and turns, that damn eyebrow raised expectantly when Jeremy doesn't move. Right. Plan… yes. Leaving. Right. With a nod, Jeremy hurries past him to lead the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is he really helping a prince escape? Shit. Did he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>steal</span>
  </em>
  <span> a prince?</span>
</p>
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